


Under Pressure

by BabysNotaProp (SuzetteB)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Promptober, M/M, Medic Castiel, Medical Patient Dean, Promptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 16:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16201247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzetteB/pseuds/BabysNotaProp
Summary: Written for Destiel Promptober 2018! Today's prompt is medic/firefighter.





	Under Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> Tagged for "graphic depictions of violence" due to the nature of Castiel's job. The story goes into medical work a tiny bit, in case anyone reading might be sensitive to that.

Under Pressure

 

Castiel has seen his fair share of blood and gore in his long career as a paramedic. He’s no stranger to broken bones, crushed bodies, heart attacks, and severed toes. In the ambulance he goes, not sure how bad the next call will be, but no matter what, he will aid all those who are needful. He enjoys helping people; it’s his calling. And every once in awhile, in between ambulance rides, he helps out at the hospital.

 

He strolls down the hall to the nurse’s station after resuscitating a small child and creating a patient care report. Castiel doesn’t know whether he’ll be sent out to ride again or to a patient’s room, but he doesn’t care. One thing is certain: tonight has been non-stop. Must be the full moon. He’s considering another cup of coffee after emptying an industrial-sized decanter into his body throughout his shift; so imagine his relief when he’s sent to do some simple blood work.

 

“Mr. Dean Winchester?” he reads off of a clipboard, walking into the room.

 

Oh crap. He’s hot.

 

“Hey,” the man in the hospital bed responds with a curious look. “You a nurse?”

 

“No, I’m a medic,” Castiel responds, all too accustomed to the question. Mr. Dean Winchester is handsome, no doubt, with bright eyes and hair made for running fingers through. Noticing he’s still in his street clothes, Castiel runs over the report again to see what exactly he’s in for.

 

“It’s okay,” Dean smiles. Damn, what a killer smile. “You’re better lookin’ anyway.”

 

And the flirting begins. Castiel Novak is used to that too, and is tempted to put up the wall he usually does in situations like this, but instead, he decides to play along.

 

“I can try to find one of those nurse hats,” says the medic with a smirk. “Or I can listen to your heart and take some blood, like I’m supposed to.”

 

Breaking out in song, Dean belts, “Listen to your heart, when he’s calling for you! Listen to your heart, and there’s nothing else you can do!”

 

It’s terribly off-key, but rather adorable. “Roxette fan?” Castiel inquires while putting on latex gloves and reaching for the stethoscope hanging on the door.

 

“Ah, you know your music!”

 

Castiel is captivated. It doesn’t even matter what happens for the rest of the night, because this patient has made his entire shift. Maybe he won’t need more coffee after all; he’s wide awake from the boisterous singing.

 

“I’m going to go ahead and take a listen here,” he says. “Go ahead and lift up your shirt.”

 

“Geez, doc,” Dean teases, “don’t you wanna buy me dinner before you start undressing me?”

 

He shakes his head and fights a smile. He’s just an insufferable flirt, he thinks, don’t let him get to you. You are a professional. Hold it together.

 

“What’s your name?” Dean asks as he lifts his tee.

 

Holy baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph. This man is a gift. His abs, his pecs, his neck.

 

“Uh, Castiel.” He focuses on the stethoscope and hopes his patient didn’t notice his momentary distraction. He presses it against his arm for a beat, to warm it up, and places it over Dean’s heart.

 

“Okay then Cas. Can I call you Cas?”

 

No one had ever called him that. “That’s fine,” he consents, listening to the distinct _thump thump, thump thump_ coming through the eartips.

 

“Well Cas,” Dean sighs, “I’m sure you don’t care, but I’m in for some weird tingly feelings in my face. It’s on one side, and I feel jittery.”

 

“I do care,” Castiel replies, adjusting the position of the diaphragm slightly. He ran several possible diagnoses over in his head, but kept them to himself. “Those symptoms are common for a lot of things, but the doctor will be able to help you better than I.”

 

“I’m not having a stroke, am I?”

 

Castiel exhales sharply. He shouldn’t be having this conversation. “Have you been taking any medication?”

 

“Just allergy medicine.”

 

“Allergy medicines, like any other drugs, have varying side effects,” he answers vaguely. “And some people are more sensitive to said side effects than others. Have you used this type of allergy medicine before?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Castiel would put real money on his verdict, but his job is to check his heart, check blood pressure, take some blood, and leave. No flirting, no diagnosing, and no staring at his perfectly sculpted body.

 

“I’m going to wrap this around your arm pretty tight,” Castiel warns, as he does with every other patient before finding the right brachial artery and strapping on the pressure cuff.

 

Dean blinks and clenches his jaw, visibly uncomfortable at the thought of the machine, but says nothing. Castiel pumps the bulb with the diaphragm peeping under the cuff, the two falling into a slightly awkward silence as Castiel listens and keeps his eyes on the manometer. Unstrapping the monitor, Cas clears his throat and avoids eye contact for a moment.

 

“Your blood pressure is a little high,” he states as neutrally as possible. He glances up to see a guilty face, reddened cheeks, and a small half smile creeping across Dean Winchester’s mouth.

 

He has to turn away to keep from laughing in the poor man’s face. Apparently Castiel’s not the only one having trouble keeping his feelings at bay. He needs to get out of this room as fast as possible. This is inappropriate. He makes some notes on the report, gathers the supplies needed to take blood, and takes a deep breath before turning back around with the most serious face he can muster.

 

“I’m not really the best with needles,” Dean informs him.

 

Thank heaven, he changed the subject. “Well, I am the best medic in the hospital at finding veins,” he replies matter-of-factly while swabbing his arm and getting to work. “Did you have a bad experience?”

 

“Yeah, some guy just jabbed the thing in there, and couldn’t get anything, so he just sorta,” Dean swats his free hand to and fro, “dug around in there, it seemed like forever. It was awful.”

 

“Sounds like,” Cas sympathizes, already halfway done.

 

“And this other time, they keep sticking me over and over, ‘cause I dunno… I guess I just got nervous and the little blood bastards disappeared?”

 

“They can give the appearance of shrinking away when you’re under stress,” Castiel explains. “There! All done.”

 

“What? Really?” Dean glances down at his minimally bruised arm and small band aid.

 

“Really,” Cas assures him, standing and picking up the clipboard he had left by the hospital bed, a bit sad that they have to part ways. He likes this one. He brightened his day, he’s gorgeous, and he’s funny. What more could a man want? “That’s it for you, Mr. Dean Winchester. I uh… I don’t usually say this to patients, but I enjoyed meeting you. Your doctor will be in momentarily.”

 

Before leaving, Castiel catches Dean winking at him, so he exits the room with a smile on his face and something extra on the patient report. A phone number. When did he write that down? While he was hanging up the blood pressure machine, perhaps?

 

_Text me_ , the diagonal note says beside a seven digit number. He smiles. Because he shouldn’t. Castiel was his medic. He’s probably going to flirt with the nurses, too. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe this is the man he was meant to let down his walls for.

 

Castiel finds an empty room, pulls his phone out, and enters the phone number.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some love!


End file.
